


Go Away

by GunTotingScienceNerd



Series: Prompt Fills [25]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers - Lost Light
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Canon-Typical Violence, Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, I love prompts, M/M, Past Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Schmoop, The Transformers: Lost Light, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 00:39:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10842831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GunTotingScienceNerd/pseuds/GunTotingScienceNerd
Summary: 8. Roddymegs, pleeeease? :38. Things You Said When You Were Crying





	Go Away

**Author's Note:**

> JRo said in an interview that all the recent events in MTMTE and LL had happened one right after another. That it had been a rough bit for our heroes, so I’m running with that.

At some point, the adrenaline just goes. The direness of the situation takes a backseat to the body’s need for rest and a moment to process. Millions of years of war had staved off that to some degree. However, shaking hands and blurry vision were a good indicator to Rodimus that he was crashing and there was nothing that was going to stop it once it started.

He was thankful to find a small storage room. Quiet, alone, and dark were exactly what he needed right now. Rodimus found the most obscured corner and wedged himself in as best he could without damaging his spoiler. He sat legs crossed hands on his knees and watched as the shaking in his hands became more pronounced. Slowly the sounds and memories of the past few weeks were no longer the ever-present quiet din in the back of his mind. Getaway, and the remains of his crew standing against him. The DJD and the army they’d brought to ensure he and his team didn’t live to see the next day. Sending messages home, and that he had no one that would be awaiting his farewell message. The battle. His flames, that while served their purpose reminded him so much of Nyon burning. A talk that almost became an execution. An execution that almost became an explosion. The explosion that followed. Interdimensional travel with no way to return home. Being arrested with a death sentence inferred as the outcome. Saving Cybertron, again, even if this one wasn't his. It's was all so much. His spark twisted and turned with the anxiety he had suppressed too long without a release. “I'm okay,” He told himself. “I'm alive. I'm in one piece.” His vision blurred and his throat constricted. “I survived. I'm good. It's all going to be okay.”

“Yes, it will be. You were quite remarkable.”

Rodimus cupped his hands around his face to shield it from view. “Congratulations you found me. Now go away. And stop sneaking up on people.” But Megatron didn’t leave. His footfalls came closer, and Rodimus curled in on himself in an attempt to hide. 

“I can hardly sneak, nor I will not go away. Are you injured?” Megatron knelt down in front of Rodimus his large dark hands encircled the smaller midnight colored wrist.

“No, I’m not injured, and yes you will go away. Don’t you know what it looks like when someone hides? I mean you should, I’m sure you’ve seen it often enough.” Rodimus hated the words as soon as he’d said them. Anger had always been an easy reach as a defense mechanism. Rodimus tucked his frame tighter into its curl. “I shouldn't have said that.”

“It’s hardly the first time you’ve yelled at me. I am sure it won’t be the last.” Megatron pulled at the young Prime until Rodimus fell against him. “Though I am a far better target for your anger than yourself. So if it will ease your pain to bear its brunt then raze and rage at me until it is spent.”

Rodimus clawed weakly at the broad gray chest. “Stop it.”

Megatron gathered the smaller shaking form into his lap setting himself and his charge against the wall in the shadows Rodimus had chosen earlier. “Stop what, my Prime?”

Rodimus shuddered as Megatron’s arms encircled him, their strength and protection was something he needed and hated that he needed it. “Being you. Being here. Being all protector-y.”

“What purpose does my life serve if not to protect my Prime.” Megatron’s lips grazed against Rodimus’ tucked helm.

“I’m not a Prime. Why would anyone ever want me as their Prime? I’m never going to be anyone's Prime.” Darkness settled in, and exhaustion finally claimed Rodimus when emotion had finished with him out.

In the quiet of a dark room where nothing was heard, but the rhythmic sounds of two frames at rest one weary voice graveled with age and worn with time cooed to the one held tightly in his embrace, “So you say my Prime.”


End file.
